


Christmas Presents

by viceroyvonmutini



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 10:36:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2847905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viceroyvonmutini/pseuds/viceroyvonmutini
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Christmas and Root needs a place to stay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Presents

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired by a couple of people to do a Christmas fic because we need more. So here it is, something I quickly whipped up in time for early morning Christmas Day.
> 
> Merry Christmas.

Surprisingly enough Shaw wasn’t the Christmas type.

Being an ‘officially I don’t exist’ agent for the government didn’t exactly leave much room for decorating the Christmas tree and eating gingerbread (although there was this one really good market stall in Berlin that one time but according to Cole she should’ve been ‘keeping an eye on the target’ and

‘Shaw what are you doing’

‘What Cole I can’t kill on an empty stomach.’)

So Shaw didn’t do Christmas. But now she was working for Finch and of course he gave them the holiday off. Shaw hoped the Machine would pop up a new number, keep her distracted, but 2 in the afternoon slouched on the couch it looked like even the Machine was taking Christmas off to her utter disappointment.

Root didn’t do Christmas much either.

It had never been a happy family affair and when she truly embraced a life of crime it wasn’t as if you got mobsters singing carols. That said, she’d still don a little Christmas sweater typing away at her laptop securing yet another business deal playing some festive tunes.

Working for the Machine however didn’t offer the luxury of a base of operations and while usually that wouldn’t bother her, it appeared the Machine was taking Christmas off like the rest of the world leaving her somewhat homeless.

Nevertheless, the Machine beeped out an address and sitting on a bench, snow falling heavily, Root raised an eyebrow.

‘Really?’

An affirmative beep answered her question and Root hopped up, trudging her way through the cold. She recognized the address immediately so it was no surprise when she ended up in front of Shaw’s apartment building but that didn’t stop her from questioning the Machine once more.

‘Really?’

Another beep. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to go in but that she wasn’t entirely sure she’d be wanted.

A master at pushing Shaw’s boundaries Root gave it no more thought. She’d push her way into that apartment whether she was wanted or not. Maybe she’d even coax a Christmas present out of Shaw…well a girl could dream. And the Machine did tell her to come here.

At 14:02 on the dot a sharp rap rung through Shaw’s apartment. She growled: if she had to celebrate this with a day off she at least wanted a day off in peace.

There was another knock, and this time Shaw got up. She pulled the door open violently, glaring at the intruder.

‘Hello Sameen,’ beamed Root

‘Root.’

‘Merry Christmas.’

‘What are you doing here?’ she gritted out.

‘Wishing you Merry Christmas. Mind if I come in?’

‘Yes.’

Root tilted her head, eyebrow raised. Shaw’s glare remained in place but she stepped aside to let Root in anyway. Root grinned and stepped in, pulling off her gloves and coat. She chucked them over the nearby couch.

‘What, no Christmas decorations?’

‘Were you expecting some?’

‘No not really. Do you have any sherry?’

‘What am I a hotel?’

‘Top left cupboard top shelf apparently,’ Root remarked absentmindedly, ignoring Shaw and walking over to said cupboard fixing herself a drink.

Shaw sat back down on her couch, picking up her beer and taking a swig. Soon she was joined by Root, on the same couch, who had poured her sherry into a coffee mug.

‘You really need to get some glasses Sameen,’ she scolded, sipping delicately from the mug.

Shaw glared.

They sat in silence for a while drinking their respective beverages. Shaw faced firmly forward, eyes boring holes into her white walls whilst Root stole side-glances at Shaw, watching her every movement. She was tense.

‘Relax Sameen. I promise I’m not here to tase you.’ 

Shaw’s head whipped to face her, scowl still present.

Root sighed, returning to her sherry.

More silence.

Finally Root stood up and Shaw’s head once again whipped round to face her, eyes following each movement as she went to pick up her discarded attire.

‘What are you doing?’ demanded Shaw.

‘Leaving.’

‘Why?’

‘I don’t want to intrude Sameen, that was never my intention.’

‘Do you have anywhere else to go?’

‘I’m sure She’ll sort me something: it’s Christmas after all.’

Shaw watched as Root buttoned her coat and pulled on her gloves. When she began to move towards the door Shaw shot up and walked swiftly, cutting across her path to reach the phone.

She looked at Root, glare still not gone but somehow a little softer.

‘I’m ordering Chinese.’

‘Okay.’

Shaw just stared at her before picking up the phone. As she dialed in the number Root watched, eyebrow raised.

‘Well? What do you want?’

Root grinned.

‘Whatever you want Sameen. Order enough for two.’

While Shaw rang for the food Root disrobed her outerwear once more and padded to the kitchen to refill her mug and get Shaw another beer.

They waited for the delivery in relative silence, TV switched on to some documentary neither of them where paying any attention to: Root too busy grinning and Shaw too busy angry with herself for letting Root stay.

Soon the takeout arrived. Shaw shoved the money in the poor boy’s hand and slammed the door. Root noted he seemed unfazed: apparently Shaw was a regular and they had become accustomed to her curt manners.

Shaw placed the food on the kitchen side, unboxing it all until she felt Root sidle up behind her.

‘Let me help,’ she said, a little too close for Shaw’s comfort yet Shaw did not move away even as their arms brushed.

The food plated they sat back down on the couch. Shaw gnawed at her ribs while Root spun Chow Mein on her fork, eating in silence but ultimately enjoying the company. Shaw wolfed down her food as usual, oblivious to Root watching her with amusement as she swiftly finished off her own noodles.

Putting her plate down she finally noticed Root. Or, she noticed how little Root had eaten.

‘Eat.’

‘Hm?’

‘You need to eat.’

‘I am?’

Shaw growled, clearly annoyed

‘You’ve only picked at that. When did you last eat?’

_11 hours, 3 minutes, 24 seconds_ the Machine rattled in her ear. Root decided to keep that tidbit of information to herself.

‘I’ve been eating fine Sameen. She looks after me.’

‘ _She_ is not human Root. Eat.’

‘Sameen…’

‘Fine. Don’t eat. But I’m having your ribs.’

Root chuckled softly

‘Sure thing Sameen.’

As Shaw devoured Root’s ribs Root found herself finishing her noodles despite her earlier protests. Shaw was right, she did need to eat more but her work left her so little time: an apple here, a donut there. What caught her attention, however, was that Shaw had noticed. It made her smile-a genuine smile- that Shaw cared enough to notice.

Once both had finished they were left with the documentary. Root felt contented for the first time in many months. She was warm, fed, and had Shaw for company. She made a mental note to thank Her later.

They didn’t say much. All in all it wasn’t really much of a Christmas celebration. They sat in silence, content to let the TV drown out the need for talk, content to sit in each others company and Shaw found herself almost enjoying the presence of a silent companion on her day off.

When they were both dozing on the couch, Shaw decreed she was going to bed and switched off the TV. She looked at Root. Warm and fuzzy on alcohol and Christmas she sighed before padding off to bed.

Root sat there motionless before a gruff voice called her.

‘Hurry the fuck up Root.’

Root grinned and stood up, making her way to the bedroom before a pair of pajamas were thrust in her face.

‘They might be small,’ admitted Shaw, moving away from Root like she was hot coal.

Root said nothing, merely smiled warmly before making her way to the bathroom to change.

Emerging, she headed for the unoccupied side of the bed and slid in tentatively. Shaw was already laid down facing away from Root.

She pulled up the covers.

They lay silent, backs facing breathing evenly in the dark wondering whether the other was awake.

Root whispered a silent Thank You.

Shaw heard.


End file.
